When The Green Gits Back In The Trees

In spring, when the green gits back in the trees,And the sun comes out and stays,And yer boots pulls on with a good tight squeeze,And you think of yer barefoot days;When you ort to work and you want to not,And you and yer wife agreesIt's time to spade up the garden lot,When the green gits back in the trees--Well! work is the least o' _my_ ideesWhen the green, you know, gits back in the trees!

When the green gits back in the trees, and beesIs a-buzzin' aroun' agin,In that kind of a lazy go-as-you-pleaseOld gait they bum roun' in;When the groun's all bald where the hay-rick stood,And the crick 's riz, and the breezeCoaxes the bloom in the old dogwood,And the green gits back in the trees,--I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these,The time when the green gits back in the trees!

When the whole tail-feathers o' wintertimeIs all pulled out and gone!And the sap it thaws and begins to climb,And the sweat it starts out onA feller's forred, a-gittin' downAt the old spring on his knees--I kind o' like jes' a-loaferin' roun'When the green gits back in the trees--Jes' a-potterin' roun' as I--durn--please--When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!